Help I'm Alive
by MesT
Summary: DBSK/TVXQ fanfic. Boy x boy, so be warned. Jaejoong is a 22 year old teacher and Yunho is a 15 year old student. Love is an IDIOT. Everything is based on a true story. All events up till graduation actually happened.


**HELP I'M ALIVE**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And there he is, a recent college graduate, freshly arrived in his parents' mother country of South Korea on not much more than a _whim_, to teach English.

Jaejoong finds his future boss waiting for him at the airport, holding a sign with his name written on it in big black letters. There's no turning back now.

The drive to his apartment is long and filled with uncomfortable silences, but he does learn that his boss's name is Park Yoochun, he is in his mid thirties, and he has a wife and two kids.

After what seems like ages he finally arrives to his new apartment. It's empty and not what he would call new or clean, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Park Yoochun leaves him for the night.

He throws a borrowed blanket and pillow onto the floor and lies down wearily, for the moment not minding the hardness of the surface or the foreign sounds and smells coming from the nightlife outside his window.

He closes his eyes. This is the end of the life he left behind in the States and the beginning of an adventure he had only ever _dreamed_ of having.

He smiles and counts three car horns and four drunken shouts outside his window, and then he is asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Do you speak Korean?"

"No," he finds himself repeating for the umpteenth time the next morning. His boss had dragged him to his new middle school bright and early, and now he is being introduced to people whose names he is sure to forget five minutes after they are gone.

He sits in his new shared office and twiddles his thumbs, occasionally standing to greet new faces, waiting patiently when his co-workers ramble about him at lightning speed in Korean…

He puts more effort to committing a certain Park Junsu's name to memory. The shorter man stands near him, eyes focused on the ground, while Park Yoochun introduces him with a laugh:

"This is Park Junsu. He used to be the prettiest teacher in school, but now he is second to you."

"Um, wow," is all Jaejoong has to say to that.

After a while he is dragged to lunch before he is allowed to go home. There he experiences steel chopsticks for the first time and realizes that no amount of practice with wooden ones could have prepared him for this.

At the end of the day he reflects that he looks Korean on account of his parents but can't speak the language or use their chopsticks, and he certainly doesn't understand a thing about the culture.

Well. At least day one is over.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He sits alone in the office, most of the teachers and students gone on a field trip for the next three days. He stares at his computer screen with his chin supported in his palms, wondering how the hell a Business major is supposed to plan five English lessons by the end of the week.

There's a knock on his door and he shuffles his way across the room to open it.

On the other side stand five boys, from the oldest class of the school by the looks of them. They halt their boisterous chatter for a long moment upon seeing his face, and then it starts up again with renewed vigor.

There's a lot of jumping around and yelling and laughing and more Korean rambling, and by the end of it Jaejoong makes out that they are indeed from the oldest class, aged about fifteen, and they barely speak a word of English.

"What's your name?" he finally asks the bunch, a forced smile plastered on his face. He wonders if all the students will react like this to him, and how long his energy will last.

The apparent leader of the group is the first to make an attempt at English.

"My-uh… name-uh… IS-UH… Yunho!!"

_Congratulations. I won't remember that._

The others list their names in turn, and after an eternity the group leaves to terrorize someone else.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next two days are much the same. The boys come back to see him and babble at him in a language he doesn't understand, and he has half of only one lesson planned by the time lunch comes around.

At lunch on the third day he meets the biggest culture shock of his life, Shim Changmin.

The man dances nervously around him in circles, giggling and averting his gaze. "You are so gorgeous!" he exclaims in near perfect English.

Jaejoong can't help but grin like an idiot at this man who looks to be about in his mid thirties, like many of the teachers he's met, but who acts like some sort of young ball of sunshine.

The first time Changmin shoves him, hard, out of the blue, Jaejoong can only silently gape and wonder where the hell this person came from.

But after repeated attacks and giggles Jaejoong recovers enough to reciprocate, and he thinks this may just turn out to be the best friend he has ever had.

Park Junsu walks in on him rubbing his arm and grimacing. "I see you've met Changmin," he says, smiling shyly for the first time.

"Oh!" Jaejoong starts. "You speak English!"

"Yes. I mean, no. Not very well…" Then he switches to Korean and talks for a full minute before Jaejoong realizes that the man is talking to _himself_ and no one else.

Junsu pauses and the two stare at each other for a second when suddenly an enormous _eukyangkyang _is unleashed at his face, and Jaejoong thinks that Korea might turn out to be a wonderful place after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the end of his first two weeks teaching, Jaejoong develops nightmares of students screaming "JAEJOONG TEACHER!! HI!!! HI TEACHER!!!!!" but is otherwise shocked at just how well he is fitting into life and work in Korea.

After three weeks he is introduced to his after-school class that he is to have twice a week. He walks in on the first day and is greeted with applause, just like in every other class, and he immediately recognizes one student as being the leader of the group of five that came to his office his first few days on the job.

"Teacher. _Teacher_," the boy starts. Instantly Jaejoong can tell that this is one of those popular, loud ones in school. "You so _gorgeous_."

His inappropriate comment is rewarded with shy giggles from his classmates, and Jaejoong wonders just how much trouble this one is going to give him in the months to come.

"What is your name?" Jaejoong asks the boy for the second time since meeting him.

"What?"

"What. Is. Your. Name?"

"Yunho."

"Yoon.. "

"Yun. Ho. Yunho. _Yunho_."

"Yunho."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One day after class the boy sends a text message in broken English to his phone:

_i want see you_

Jaejoong stares, thinking that this is getting into dangerous and highly inappropriate territory. He replies with a short:

_that's nice_

Five minutes later his phone beeps again, and the next message reads:

_i am every day every night thing about you_

Jaejoong swallows hard and chucks the damn thing into his bag.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the weeks that follow the boy called Yunho becomes noticeably quieter during class, working harder, attention always on Jaejoong.

A_ lot_ of attention on Jaejoong.

Many other students ogle the teacher with lovey-dovey eyes and giggle and blush in his presence, but there is something more intense, more serious, more _sincere_ about Yunho's attention.

"You know that kid, Jung Yunho?" Jaejoong asks Changmin one day.

"Oh god, yes."

"I think he's my favorite student."

Changmin's jaw drops and the comment earns him a punch in the shoulder.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Jaejoong's cheeks flush. "What—why? What did I say?"

"Jung Yunho is famous in this school. Famous for being—how do you say in English—a _bully_. He's a _bully_, nothing more. All the students are scared of him, and he's every teacher's worst nightmare."

Jaejoong stares and wonders if they could possibly be talking about the same boy. "But he's the best student in my class! He always works so hard, and he helps me with anything I need, and—"

"He must really like you, then," Changmin says, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

Jaejoong isn't sure what to say, and then the other man adds quietly:

"You know, one day, he will show you his true colors. I think some day he will betray you."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Next class Jaejoong decides to practice a new word he learned in Korean on Yunho.

"Sarangheyo."

The class _ooh_s and _aah_s as if it's a miracle that a foreigner could possibly learn something in their language.

Yunho turns those eyes that always sparkle these days on him and says softly, "Saranghamnida."

During the remainder of the period Jaejoong forces the class to choose English names because he cannot for the_ life_ of him remember more than a handful of their Korean ones.

Jaejoong asks each student in turn for their chosen names, and when he gets to Yunho he has no idea how significant _this _moment will turn out to be, how he will remember _this_ day for the rest of his life.

"What's your English name?" he asks.

The boy thinks silently for a moment and then replies, in shockingly perfect English, and in a soft voice that he uses only with Jaejoong now:

"Just call me Yunho."

A shy smile, and to his horror Jaejoong is blushing in front of his students, and he quickly walks away and busies himself with something else, _anything_ else, to try to cover it up…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

From then on, everything changes.

Jaejoong starts to notice that Yunho is already quite tall for his age.

He starts to wonder what the boy's hair would feel like in his fingers.

He starts to notice his eyes, his skin, his lips…

He sits shoulder to shoulder with Junsu at the other man's office, looking through digital pictures of staff and students, and suddenly he sees one of Yunho and blurts: "That's my _favorite _student!" like some kind of teenager. Junsu laughs at him and emails that one to him, and Jaejoong somehow feels like he is betraying Junsu's innocence.

He comes home that evening and opens the photo and stares.

_I like him._

His palms begin to sweat.

_I like a student._

His heart begins to race.

_I like a boy._

He laughs. It sounds a little hysterical, but he doesn't care.

_Am I a pedophile?_

His eyes begin to sting. He wants to cry.

_Am I a __**pedophile**__? No. That can't be. I'm a good person…_

_Am I __**gay**__? No… no, no, no. That doesn't sound right. I just like Yunho. That's all. _

_I'm a good person…_

He buries his head in his hands and weeps and weeps until he falls asleep at his desk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You know, Park Yoochun dated a student once."

"_What!!?_"

Jaejoong and Changmin sit in the lobby of a movie theater, for once holding hands instead of hitting each other.

"Yes. I saw them together once… But no one knows. If he finds out that I know, he will kill me. You _must_ not tell anyone."

Jaejoong's face loses color, flushes red, and back again. He can only think of Yunho.

"That's horrible. That's _horrible_. He—He's… That… That's a _terrible_ thing to do. I didn't know he could do something like that…"

A hint of sadness creeps into Changmin's eyes, and he says softly, "Maybe they were in love."

"In _love_??!" Some people turn to look at Jaejoong and he fights to keep his voice under control. "That student was just a _kid_. It doesn't matter what they think they felt. She was just a _child_."

Changmin doesn't say any more on the matter, and when Jaejoong showers that night he strokes himself under the hot water and thinks of Yunho, and when he comes he bites into the flesh of his arm to keep from screaming.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"He loves you, you know," a girl tells him softly one day in the hallway.

"Yes, I know." Jaejoong tries to smirk even as he is inwardly collapsing.

"Everybody knows," she giggles.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two months before graduation Yunho stops coming to school.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"He will be going to a very bad high school," Junsu whispers to him one day. These days they always talk about Yunho, because Junsu is innocent, and it's easy to hide these unspeakable feelings from him.

Jaejoong's heart sinks. "Why??"

"Because he did horribly on his exams. Jaejoong, the Yunho you see is not the real Yunho. The real Yunho doesn't give a shit about academics, about anything, about any_one_, except _you_."

_Then why doesn't he come to fucking school to see me? _

_He's just a fucking __**kid**__, that's why. His feelings for me are ruining his tough boy image and he can't take it, so he is fucking __**giving up**__ on the __**one **__person who is __**on his side**__._

Changmin's voice rings in his ears. _Someday he will betray you_.

"_God." _Jaejoong wonders if he might just lose it. "Who's going to motivate him to work hard if all the students at the high school are like _him_? He's going to rot away in there, and grow up to be a horrible human being… Sometimes I wish I could just take him away from this country and its corrupted school system and keep him safe before it's too late—"

Jaejoong feels Junsu lace his fingers with his own, and he realizes that maybe he should stop before he says too much.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The day before the start of the school's three week long vacation, Jaejoong by sheer _chance_ happens to look up from his work and toward his office door—

And there is Yunho.

Jaejoong's heart nearly stops but he somehow manages to stand and move his feet toward the door.

Without thinking he wraps his arms around the boy and feels him hug back, so _tightly_, so _desperately_…

Jaejoong blurts something about how he hopes to see him before graduation, completely forgetting Yunho's limited English ability, but it doesn't matter because they're hugging again and again…

The moment the student leaves Jaejoong locks himself in his office and drops to his knees, heaving, the acidic taste of vomit bubbling up his throat…

And then he is running, through crowds of students, up stairs, down hallways, and when he finds Changmin he throws himself into the man's arms and bursts into bitter, burning tears.

He is vaguely aware of being dragged into a private room and Changmin using his body to shield him from the wide eyes of students…

"_H-he is the first, an-and the last to see me…" _Jaejoong rambles, almost deliriously, sagging helplessly in the other man's arms.

"Jaejoongie—What are you talking about?? What's wrong!!? My poor baby—"

But he must _not_ tell him. He _must __**not**_.

_I'll take this secret to my grave. Oh god, Yunho, I love you, I __**love**__ you, what have you done…_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jaejoong sits in the audience, toward the back, watching, numb, as the oldest class walks one by one across the stage to receive their meaningless middle school diplomas.

He doesn't dare to hope to see Yunho.

But suddenly Junsu nudges him with his elbow, and he focuses his eyes, and _there he is_…

It's been almost another full month.

And he's grown _so much_.

He looks older, almost like a man, and so beautiful that Jaejoong stares at him, only him, unashamedly.

A tear escapes his eye but he doesn't notice.

_Yunho. God, Yunho, Yunho, Yunho._

And then Yunho sees him, and they lock gazes for what seems like an eternity…

And then tears are _streaming_ down Jaejoong's face, and he sees Yunho running toward him, dozens, a hundred, two hundred students at his heels—

And Jaejoong is running through the isle, and they throw themselves into each other's arms, and there is nothing in his world but the sweet, warm Yunho pressed against him…

The other students form a tight circle around them, shielding them from the eyes of other students, teachers, parents, and Jaejoong is sobbing into Yunho's neck, and Yunho is crying bitterly into his hair…

"_Don't leave me…"_

Jaejoong isn't sure if the words came from Yunho or from himself, or maybe from both, but eventually the crowd of students is forced to disperse and Jaejoong lets go of his boy, and someone guides him back to his seat...

His head is pounding, and he has just enough strength to mumble something about the bathroom to Junsu, and then he is stumbling out of there, his legs carrying him nowhere in particular, just far, far away.

He collapses on the pavement outside the school and focuses on just breathing, the sun warm on his skin.

He loses track of time and then suddenly strong arms are pulling him to his feet and he is running, and Yunho is pulling his wrist, urging him to go faster, _faster_, and they are running away from the school, away from the people that would never understand, running, just the two of them, and nothing else matters…

Yunho pulls him through winding streets and narrow alleys, and then they're in a small deserted courtyard with withered vines crawling up brick walls and Yunho is touching him, everywhere, clumsy and inexperienced, and Jaejoong cradles the boy's face in his palms and can't believe that he is lucky enough to experience the feel of his skin in this lifetime—

Yunho is crying, and Jaejoong presses tender kisses to his wet cheeks even as he mumbles an incoherent string of _I'm sorry _s, and Yunho looks at him with the unconditional, overpowering love of youth, and Jaejoong's head spins and he melts in the boy's arms—

And then Yunho is pressing his lips against Jaejoong's, whispering his name between kisses, and his breath smells so sweet, and his lips are so soft, and Jaejoong holds him impossibly closer, claiming him in this stolen moment.

Jaejoong reaches his hand underneath the boy's cotton shirt and caresses skin he'd only dreamed of, and he slips fingers into his pants and grabs a hardening length that had never been touched before.

Yunho gasps and it almost sends Jaejoong over the edge.

Jaejoong feels a smooth hand wrap around his own member and then they are stroking each other, fast, hard, moaning into each other's mouths, desperate _I love you_ s exchanged in hot breaths.

Then Yunho is coming, and he's whimpering, moaning, completely exposed, desperate and trusting in Jaejoong's arms, and Jaejoong licks the salty tears that pool at the tip of his chin and then he too is coming all over the boy's hand, the white liquid spilling into his pants and onto the ground.

They slump against each other and sink to the ground, limbs tangled, breathing loud and ragged, a mess of broken bodies.

"Yunho, my darling, my precious baby," Jaejoong murmurs, nosing the boy's hair, cheek, neck.

"Jaejoong. Jaejoong. Jaejoong. I love you, so much."

"I know, my baby. My sweetheart. I love you, too."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Instead of getting fired and being sentenced to years in prison, Jaejoong had decided to quit his job and move back home.

Yunho had sunk to his knees in the airport, begging him to stay, telling him he couldn't _live_ without him.

_I'll come back for you_, he had whispered, fingers running through the boy's hair.

Now Jaejoong sits slumped in his seat on the plane, thinking that half of his heart, his soul, his entire being is being left behind in Korea.

_In three years. When you are eighteen. I promise._

Hongdae. They had managed to agree to meet in Hongdae, center of Seoul.

In three years.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two years later nearly half of the states in North America legalize gay marriage.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One month and one week after that Jaejoong holds his mother's hand and tells her that he left a boy behind in Korea, and that he loves him. She cries, and he tells her that he's just living, just _living_, and that life works in funny ways sometimes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He buys his ticket, and his heart beats faster and faster the closer the plane gets to Korea.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sun is shining, and there is music in the streets. People around him are smiling, laughing, taking these preciously short moments to just _be_, with not a care in the world.

But to Jaejoong, everything is blurring together into a dizzying, sickening mess.

Hongdae is big, and he's not sure where he's supposed to go.

He knows he shouldn't hope, but he can't help it.

So he hopes, and hopes, and hopes, and he tries to look through the throngs of people, but it's almost _impossible_, his heart is pounding and he _can't see_…

And then everything stops.

_Yunho._

Jaejoong stares, frozen in place, a figure casually leaning against the side of a building suddenly the center of his world. _Can it be?_

"Yunho."

A face turns toward him, a face that is so familiar, but maybe more angular, jaw a bit stronger, brows just slightly thicker…

The tall, young man closes the distance between them.

When he speaks his voice is almost a whisper, thick with too many emotions. "You came back for me."

"Yunho—"

"I-I studied English very hard. For you. Because I knew—I knew th—that—"

"_Yunho." _Jaejoong takes a long-fingered hand into his own. _"Run with me."_

And they are running, through winding streets and alleys, Jaejoong pulling this time, and there are flowers and birds and blue skies and he knows, he _knows_ that someday they won't have to run anymore, and they'll be free, and they will love each other, forever, for the whole world to see.


End file.
